Keep Your Head!
by Glaukus
Summary: Headhunter!Reo contemplates murdering Elliot in his bed under the cover of darkness. Slash - Reo/Elliot, extra pairing. Darkfic.


**Glaukus: Ah, Pandora Hearts fandom. I remember when you were a tiny little thing bearing less than twenty works in your archives. You're still tiny, though. Let's try and change that. And ignore the amount of OC fics. Ugh. **

**This was inspired by a request from the kink meme on LiveJournal. It's AU, graphic, and quite possibly one of the most dark things I've written recently. **

**So enjoy. **

**Warnings: Reverse rape, detailed descriptions of gorror, sex - both homo and hetero, and slight spoilers about the Nightray family. **

* * *

_Off with his head! Off with his head!_

The macabre mantra was sung in the synapses of his brain as Reo closed the door behind. Even with the silky curtains flung wide, the midnight darkness provided adequate cover for the young servant. His crossing across the private chambers was nothing but silent. Indeed, stealth had been the only thing he had truly progressed at when he had been assigned as the sole personal body guard of young Elliot Nightray. Guns and swords were hardly complimentary to hands suited for breathing life to musical notes.

Who needed such tiresome little toys when a _Chain _proved to be the Queen on the chess field?

The Beast Within controlled his limbs like a master puppeteer, brought to the surface of his mind at its own call. Free to wreak havoc without abandon.

The puppet was moved towards the grand bed, momentarily illuminating his body when he stepped into a cascading ray of moonshine, only to be welcomed back to the darkness when he draped back a coal curtain and perched upon the bed. Barely an arm's length away was his Elliot. His master.

A ghostly hand was lowered and stroked the boy's pale cheek with a spidery finger. Downwards, towards the lips. Towards the dried cut on the lips from when Elliot had bitten in a fit of anxiety or outrage. Probably the latter.

_Weak._ The Chain inside thought. _So very weak. Pathetic. Mortal. Just like the rest of them._

Reo smiled cruelly. Just like the rest of them indeed.

How easily Ernest and Claude had fallen. They and every other Nightray and human. Like stalks of wheat before the scythe that cut them down. They had all clearly underestimated the Queen of Hearts. Delightfully the Chain and Contractor became drunk on the two Nightrays' expressions of doom; their expressions reflected in the pools of blood. That had been awhile ago. Before the clock ceased ticking and they were pulled to the center of the Abyss. And when that fool had been swallowed by Alyss's oversized cat, the Queen had discovered a new Joker to dilute with brainwashing poison.

Besides the Duke, that _cantankerous bitch _Vanessa, and those two adopted Nightrays (they hardly matter now; they didn't have pure Nightray blood in their veins), there was only Elliot Nightray.

Elliot the Heir.

Elliot the Studious.

Elliot the Strong.

Elliot the Proud.

Elliot the Duped.

Elliot the Fool!

The stroking finger curled and traced across the slumbering Nightray's throat. The nail scratched the guidelines for the handheld guillotine. Reo closed his eyes, small body swaying to the thought of seeing Elliot. His face devastated, horrified, _broken_ when Reo would reveal himself as the enemy he had spent untold hours, nights, weeks without pause searching for. When in fact the demon was right under his upturned nose all along.

How glorious it would be. It was hard to wait. Why not now? Disrupt that rare pure slumber with a blade digging into his chest. Listen to the cries of confusion turn to agony before ceasing altogether. Cherish the final death rattle gasp as the Nightray would be still and move no more. He might not even remove his head- No, he _will_ slice the head off.

But first he will introduce Elliot to agony. Not the agony of the heart's absences that made the young man scream and cry for his slaughtered family. No; first he would pull the fingernails out and then twist the digits off his hands. Those would go next, then the feet. The limbs would be sawed off before Elliot's lower body was disemboweled of the organs. The chest would be cracked open and lungs flung out to crumple on his back like wings. And _finally_, the head would be sliced off. Sliced apart and cast into the pond, along with all the other bloody pieces.

Reo wondered if the sight alone would shock old Duke Nightray into his coffin.

He shook with an unvoiced giggle and pressed the nail too deeply into that pretty skin.

Elliot awoke with a slow shift in position, yawn, and fluttering of eyes. For a second Reo considered poking them out with quick pecking jabs of his fingers. It didn't last. Suddenly he felt the cool bite of steel against his jugular. He froze; awaiting the next action.

"… Reo?"

Nodding and talking were both foolish; he raised his hand to grasp Elliot's wrist lightly. He felt the grip loosen and the knife draw away from his vulnerable neck. "I'm sorry for disturbing you, Elliot. I was just checking to make sure you were alright." Reo's words were like honey; too sweet to carry any trace of poison in them.

"Of course," Elliot muttered, sliding the blade back under his pillow. "That's thoughtful of you."

"It's only a servant's duty, to check up on his master." Elliot gave him an amused smile that was crooked from slumber but did not retort. "Go to bed, Reo. We have guards stationed inside, remember?"

Reo tilted his head innocently. "Are you saying that I'm incompetent?"

Elliot narrowed his eyes. "No! I'm saying that there's no need of your assistance."

"Except for this, maybe." Reo's hand moved to the waist of his master. Under his fingers he felt Elliot tense, slumber rushing out. It probably wasn't the only thing rushing. "Reo, we've- … I didn't have a-" The scruffy servant didn't listen. He focused instead on the hand sliding under the turn-up of the both soft cotton pants and undergarments, squeezing the warming organ.

Elliot's breath hitched as he stiffened, sitting up straighter and placing his hand on Reo's wrist. "Reo, you r-really should rest."

"I won't be long."

"Hn…"

Elliot helped shift his clothes down as Reo began to stroke him. His breaths started to deepen as his servant's hand squeezed and pumped harder. "iR-Reo…/i Elliot shuddered, jerking his hips up. The giver released the stiffening organ and lowered his body, taking time to tuck a shock of dark hair behind his ear before he grasped Elliot at the base and licked from root to head. His master gasped but did not object anymore.

The session of fellatio continued as Reo took Elliot into his mouth and sucked. Elliot, expressing control by not forcing Reo's head down further, was merely running his fingers through that wild black mane. They curled to clutch tighter and tighter as Elliot began to narrow his peak. Elliot's moans rose to a high gasp as he jerked his hips and came.

Reo swallowed the seed.

Elliot swallowed the lies!

iThe despair you will show at your doom will be beautiful./i Reo thought as he lifted himself up to kiss Elliot's teeth-worried lips. His master returned it breathlessly, hands holding Reo's head as he kissed deeply and claimed the boy's mouth with his tongue. Only when the hands began to move down to clutch his servant's nightshirt did Reo break it and pull away. "I'm still not ready, Elliot." He said, bringing the timidity into his tone as he looked away, as if shy.

Even in the dark he could see Elliot's face looking crestfallen with disappointment. But he did grunt and fix his pants. Reo grasped the bathrobe he had left on the floor whence he entered his master's chambers and concealed his skinny body in the dark cotton.

"Do you want me to walk you to your room?" Elliot asked huskily, swinging his legs to the floor. Reo tightened the girdle around his waist and smiled at Elliot. "I'm not afraid of the dark anymore, Elly." His master grumbled something about that childish nickname being used out of context.

Reo made some noise that sounded like a chuckle and left his master to his bed. Before he grasped the doorknob a curious sensation overtook him. His ears started to ring, drowning out all other noise. His head pounded with aches that he suddenly began to mentally fight with a growing panic.

_Leave him alone!_

A tiny voice broke through his angered thoughts. The real owner of this weak little body sometimes showed strength that the puppeteer would underestimate. At the most unexpected times Reo would break through the Chain's hold to try and wrestle back control. Never had he actually succeeded, but by iGod/i, sometimes he came close.

Reo exited the room with a cruel smile. That would just have to be remedied.

---

The hand tightening across his esophagus squeezed out the last little gasp of breath in Reo's lungs as the boy shuddered in a familiar fear. The holder, legs pinching his hips as she rode him, grinned maliciously and shoved harder against his neck. The prospect of asphyxiation made the boy below her flounder, useless arms bound above his head to the bed frame with the scarf he would have to wear tomorrow to hide the bruises on his pale skin.

If he would live to see tomorrow, that is.

The naked vixen, with her dark mahogany hair and vivid red eyes that even he could see without his glasses and in the dark, smirked and withdrew the hand to allow Reo a few grateful sips of air.

"_The Queen of Hearts_

_Sneered and decreed_;"

She began, running the relinquishing hand down Reo's bare chest. To the wound there. The dark haired boy weakly burbled to keep up with the memorized poem. A creed between the two that was whispered during each session of dark passion play.

"_That the puppet's only part_

_Is to fulfill her one need._"

The Chain's smile turned cruel and toothy. She rewarded her Contractor by rocking her hips, listening to him moan. Reo was far too tired to feign any sort of resistance.

"_To be the Nightrays' bane_

_As a stalking sudden death_."

For the umpteenth time that night Reo asked himself: iWhere did I go wrong?/i As he let his body take control – rearing his hips up to meet with the Queen of Hearts's - his mind went back to the scene, barely a half-year ago, when he had contracted a fever. As he lay delirious from both his temperature and medication, ishe/i had come to him, as if from a dream. Promising him the power he needed to protect his master. The agreement had barely left his lips before his letter to the Devil was signed with the Reaper perched above his head, free to inhabit his mind at any time. And to once again work for the destruction of the Nightrays.

"_Wreaking havoc in this game_

_Until the last one draws Final Breath_."

Elliot. His master. Oh, how he dreaded the day when the Headhunter's identity would be revealed in an minute of blood and metal. Even if he was stalling as best as he could, Elliot Nightray was out for blood and revenge, devouring each scrap of a clue as fast as he could. It was only because of the Queen's love of the hunt that his blood wasn't watering the earth yet.

"_To spill the truth now_

_Would be a foolish mistake._"

Her voice was nearly breathless in dark bliss the Queen of Hearts tilted her head back and let out a triumphant cry as her walls clenched around his member. Of course her real pleasure was witnessing his growing dismay as his end approached.

"_Better to keep the tongue down_

_When your own life is at stake_."

If he let slip that he was an illegal Contractor then Pandora would either imprison him, execute him, or do who know iwhat/i they really did in their organization. Or maybe the Nightrays would be the first to know; the first to pin him against the wall and pepper his body with the bullets of a firing squad. And if that wasn't enough, there was no telling what the Chain would do once the cat was out of the bag. And from the nightmares and hallucinations she plagued him with it was not going to be a happy ending.

"_To wield my blade is all I ask_

_Until every one of them dies_."

The Queen of Heart's hand went to his left breast, touching the mark of ill omen; the spiked clock that struck 3 o'clock. A quarter of his life chipped away with a touch of fire. At the center rested a dark heart of congealed blood, etched again and again and again by the Chain's nails. Her own signature carved into his body.

"_I will keep on this mask_

_Before we silence their final cries_."

Her hand went to the scab, clawing at it until it broke and ran bloody once more.

"_Then your head I will sever_

_When there is nothing more to gain_."

"_Nothing will remain_."

_Forgive me, Elliot._


End file.
